A Heart Opens Wide
The crackling fire's flames continued their constant ballet, the colors changing from shades of yellow and orange to the occasional glaring white with blue edges. Across the room, the weathered grandfather clock marked the passage of time in a mesmerizing rhythm. Except for the ticking, the house was painfully quiet, opening the way for worrisome thoughts in the mind of ten-year-old Adam Cartwright.
"His fever is alarmingly high. His lungs are straining with each and every breath." Those were the words he'd heard Doctor Martin say when earlier that evening, Adam had eavesdropped outside of his little brother Hoss's bedroom door. The next sounds Adam had heard were Marie's cries as she buried her face against his father's chest. Adam wasn't exactly sure why, but it bothered him that Marie, newly married to his father, felt it her place to worry for Hoss and attempt to ease his father's anguish.
As he stoked the fire, Adam found himself poking and shoving the sweet-smelling pine logs much harder than was necessary, his frustrations absorbed into their fate. Hoss's mother had died when Hoss was merely a babe and, from the moment she drew her final breath, Adam had assumed his role as protector, teacher, and big brother. And so it had been, father and two sons against the world, their triumphs and failures, successes and disappointments, theirs alone to celebrate or bear. Adam had found his place, made it really, with his perseverance, cleverness and most of all, his love for his father and brother.
The security he'd carved out for himself was threatened by his father's new wife. Everything she said and did seemed to Adam to be a challenge of his place in the lives of his pa and Hoss. And now that Hoss was ill, maybe even dying, Marie was there with Pa to comfort and be comforted. She sat for hours with Hoss, holding his little hand in hers, wiping his brow as the fever wept its poison. She sang to him, humming unknown tunes and singing words in French that seemed to sting Adam's ears. Whenever Pa needed consoling, it was her arms he ran to. And something more . . . something Adam had seen only twice in his lifetime – his father reduced to fearful tears. And now, when Pa cried, he did so blatantly, with no shame or embarrassment, as he clung tightly to Marie.
Adam placed the hot fire poker into its stand, turned, and with his booted foot, shoved the old wooden table as hard as he could. He felt his face growing warm and he kicked the table a few more inches before heading for the front door. He stopped himself just short of slamming the door and instead, closed it softly before walking out into the balmy night air on the porch. He leaned heavily against one of the beams, his hands tucked tightly into his trouser pockets. His face was hot now as his breathing quickened. He walked toward the barn, the rage inside his young body building with each step. A sound from the window above the porch made him stop. Turning, he saw the light in Hoss's room shining through the billowing curtain. Adam grasped the hitching post with both hands, squeezing and releasing as he breathed deeply. It was a ritual he'd recently mastered, helping to still his anger whenever Marie filled his thoughts. As he calmed, his looked upward at the thousands of stars flickering in the blue-black night sky. Some of the stars seemed brighter than others, and as he marveled at the endless light show, one blazing light caught his eye. It glowed brightly and the more he watched it, the more it called to him, just as Hoss's bright blue eyes called him whenever he laughed or smiled.
A memory flashed into Adam's mind, a memory that made him dimple. He leaned his back and elbows against the post, took a deep breath and readied himself to do something he remembered doing with Inger, Hoss's mother: wishing on a star. Just as he was about to wish that Marie would go away so he and Pa could nurse Hoss back to health, a delicate, warm breeze blew across his face. He blinked, then spoke his wish aloud.
"Star light, star bright, I make this wish tonight. Please make my brother better. His name is Hoss and except for Pa, he's all I got. He's just a little guy . . . Well, not so little really. He's just not very old. Pa really needs him. Hoss makes Pa laugh and smile. A lot. Pa didn't do that for a long time. And now, he does. Hoss makes me happy, too, even though he gets into my books and stuff. I don't really mind. And he needs a chance to grow up so he can read my books. And ride a horse. Marie says . . ."
Without meaning to, Adam was including Marie in his wish. He was upset with himself for the way her name just slipped out, but his wish was far too important to let his feelings about her get in the way.
"Marie says that Hoss will be a big, happy man some day. That he'll be real good with animals and such. She says we each have our place, and Hoss is . . . well, she says Hoss is lucky to have me for a big brother. But she's WRONG! I'm the one that's lucky to have Hoss. So please, star, help my little brother."
Adam closed his eyes, holding back his tears when he heard Marie's voice from the window above.
"Please, Wishing Star, help my little boys. Hoss deserves to live a long, happy life, and Adam has had more sorrow than any young man should. Ben's sons are everything to him, and Ben is everything to me. His boys . . . OUR boys . . . must grow up together."
Adam didn't hear the rest of her wish. Instead he ran inside, up the staircase, and into Hoss's room. As Marie finished her wish, she felt a small, strong hand come to rest on her shoulder.
~ Finis ~